I Can't Lose You
by OverSweetNightmare
Summary: Kyman! Kyle realizes that Cartman doesn't hate him as much as he thought when the other boy saves him from harm. But is there more to it that just friendship? Psh, of COURSE there is! Rated T because I said so.


**AN: And here is another story for the big epic Kyman project thing. Wh00t. It's not huge, and it's not great, but dammit it's gonna help Kyman get populated! If you haven't been on my profile or read the note at the beginning of Soul Flash's "Saturday Morning," then you might as well know what this is all about. Soul and I have decided to try and get Kyman at _least _a few more pages of fics. Style has 30 pages. Kyman has 9. That's not right! If you're a Kyman writer, write a fic and submit it! If you like Kyman but haven't written it before, then try anyway and submit what you come up with! Or if you can't write for shit, draw a Kyman picture and submit it to dA! Or, if you can't write for shit and draw just as badly, then just review the Kyman stories and encourage all the authors to write more. **

**Style is good - but Kyman is better. **

**Enjoy the story.**

There comes a time in everyone's lives when the monotony of day-to-day normality is knocked off of its feet by something so strange that it can only be classified as fate randomly waving its hands around like a raving lunatic. To put it in simpler terms, average goes to batshit insane at least once during your life. Or, if you happen to be in the world my friends and I are, every other fucking day.

But even though we went on a million different adventures as kids and this continued into our teen years, it became a normal thing for us. Aliens coming to Earth and fighting a presidential candidate who was best friends with a talking dog that had an odd connection to Stan's dog Sparky would only receive a collective "Meh" from us. So what was normal for us, you ask? I'll tell you. Normal was zany things you'd never see (except on a Hollywood movie or a bad soap opera) somehow intertwining in our lives. Normal was Kenny dying and coming back, usually the next day but sometimes later. Normal was Cartman ripping on me and being an all-around evil bastard. So if one of these things were to change, it would be strange. Take, for example, a normal month of nothing but peace and quiet. Or Kenny dying and never coming back, or coming back seconds later. Or Cartman being genuinely nice to me or someone else who wasn't one of the rare exceptions (i.e. Hitler or Mel Gibson).

When I was fifteen, one of those things happened. It definitely changed my life – but wouldn't something so strange be expected to? Sometimes I wonder about it. I lay awake at night, staring at nothing and thinking that all of this is some crazy dream. Because out of the three things I stated above, it was the one I least expected to happen.

I was walking home alone one snowy night (as if there's any other kind of night in this town). A few streetlamps were burnt out, but that didn't bother me much. I had grown desensitized to feelings of danger and considered myself safe as I could be. I was immune to misfortune, because even when it happened I weaseled my way out of it. Stan, Kenny, and Cartman could do the same. But taking that immunity for granted was a horrible thing. The danger I weaseled my way out of was the zany stuff (aliens, cults, wild animals, et cetera) that I faced nearly every week. I'd almost forgotten about the simpler dangers, like gangs and rapists and things like that. And I left my defenses down as I took a shortcut through an unlit alleyway close to the bad side of town (yes, near Kenny's house).

The warning was the sound of footsteps behind me. But I was too caught up in what I planned to do once I was home, so I didn't notice. And in a matter of seconds I was surrounded by four boys that were probably three years older than me, and they all had guns.

"Hey there," one hissed, and I saw his teeth flash in the darkness as he grinned. "What's a little boy like you doing out here all alone?"

My feeling of immunity was gone. I knew I was in trouble, and in my fear, I stayed silent.

"Got any money on you?" he asked smoothly, and I felt his hand wrap around my throat. I let out a strangled whimper as he shook me. To my horror, the bag of gold around my neck clinked as he did so. I think his grin widened.

"Let me go," I said hoarsely. The boys laughed.

"I don't think so," the one holding me said, and I knew then that I was about to die.

"Let go of Kahl, you asshole!"

I hadn't even registered who the voice belonged to before the guy holding me was knocked off of his feet. The others descended on the attacker, but he threw them off with no effort and beat them to bloody pulps. After a good few minutes of this, they had all run off, and I was alone with my savior, whose identity I'd figured out.

"What… what was that for, Cartman?"

My eyes had adjusted to the darkness. I saw his amber eyes perfectly as he looked at me. There was something I didn't recognize in them.

"They were gonna hurt you, Kahl. Or kill you."

I blinked and tilted my head, watching his expression carefully. This felt odd. "But… you hate me. Why would you help me…?"

"You'd be surprised at how much bullshit I spew at you. Not get home, you stupid Jew. They might come back." He looked around. "On second thought, I'll go with you. Damn hippies are probably gonna try again."

He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the alleyway, and I could only follow him in silence. I was practically speechless. Of all people, Eric Cartman had just saved my life… _and_ he admitted that he didn't hate me as much as I thought. Or at least that's what I figured he meant. And I noticed how tightly he was gripping my hand, almost as if he thought I would suddenly vanish if he didn't hold tight enough. I tried to think of something to say.

"You… you're stronger than I thought you were."

He grunted.

"Really, Cartman. You fought those guys off like you were some sort of superhero."

He grunted again and looked at me over his shoulder. "Yeah, well, I kick ass. You know that, Kahl. Stupid Jew."

His insult wasn't nearly as strong as usual. This concerned me. "Are you okay?"

He laughed coldly. "You give a crap?"

"You just saved my life. I'm too stunned to remember to hate you."

He sighed. "No, I'm not okay. I almost lost you."

I took a deep breath. "But… you almost lost me a few years back, with the kidney thing. It would have been your fault. And other occasions…"

"I didn't care back then."

We walked in silence for a few moments. I knew we were near my house. I was trying in vain to piece together this entire confusing situation and failing miserably. "Well… what made you care?"

Cartman stopped , let go of my hand, and turned to face me. He looked more serious than I'd ever seen him look. "Kahl…" He sighed and looked away. Then he looked at me again. "You know me, right? And you know that I'd never admit anything to unbalance my social standing? Right?"

I was tempted to ask "What social standing?", but I didn't. I just looked at him.

"Basically, the thing that makes me care is one of those things I will take to the grave. That is, unless I find a reason to not do so. Understand, Jew?"

I nodded.

"But I will tell you this, Kahl: you mean more to me now than you ever did. If I really had the opportunity to wipe out all the Jews, I'd probably keep you alive. But don't be flattered. You'd be my slave or somethin'." He was looking away from me, and I wondered if he really meant the last part. But the sound of his voice in the beginning led me to believe that he meant the first part, and I _was _flattered.

"You're still a stinking dirty Jew to me," he continued. "And all that other shit I say. But… I dunno… I don't hate you for it. A lot." He kicked some of the snow he was standing on, and I could tell this was getting harder for him by the minute. "Stupid Jew." There was almost no feeling in it that time.

I decided to make a move, so I pulled him into a hug. Once he'd lifted his head to try and look at me, I buried my face in his neck.

"Thank you, Cartman. Thanks a lot. For saving me." I didn't know what else to say. I didn't think he was lying, even though I usually would. I didn't really know how much I liked him, either. But I knew I'd save him if he was about to be killed. I had, after all, done it once before. Or twice. Or a few times.

I pulled away and looked him in the eye. He looked stunned, and I knew I'd rendered him speechless.

"I think I can get home on my own. Thanks, dude." I waved and turned to walk away. But he grabbed my hand at the last second, and when I turned to him, he still looked a little flustered.

"Uh… d-don't tell anyone. Not even Stan. Okay? No one can know. I hate you. That's the image. A-and you hate me."

"I know," I said. "What, did you actually think I'd tell anyone about this? I can't rat you out after you saved my life."

He gulped. "Okay… th-thanks, Jew."

We stared at each other for a few awkward seconds. He moved forward a little, looking determined, and then chickened out of whatever he was planning and let my hand go.

"See you tomorrow, Kahl." Then he ran off, and I watched him for a moment before turning to go home.

My night was odd. I couldn't stop thinking about Cartman. Over and over, I replayed my time with him in my mind, pondering the change in behavior and the secret he was keeping from me about why he liked me. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there was really only one logical explanation: He liked me _that _way. What else could make Eric Cartman have any feelings for me at all? But as I thought about this, I realized that it wasn't weirding me out the way it should have been. I felt… calm. I figured it was because no one had ever liked me that way before. At least, no one I knew of. The thought made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. And because I was drifting into sleep, my mind wandered around with the possibilities. I could almost feel his arms around me as we slept together… But then I jolted awake as I realized what I was thinking about. Okay, so maybe Cartman wasn't always the manipulative bastard he seemed to be, but he was still a manipulative bastard. I'd be in trouble if I got with him. And crushing on me or not, he hated my religion… And I'd be an outcast if anyone found out. Oh, and I totally didn't like him back. The feelings I felt were because of the fact that _he_ liked _me._ Being that the fact that he's saved me had diminished my hatred for him, I wasn't entirely disgusted by the idea and therefore had to envision it happening. Or so I told myself.

The next day started off feeling a little tense. I walked to the bus stop like I always did and stood next to Stan. We started talking about the various things we usually did, and then Kenny showed up. He told us about a show he'd seen and we all began to discuss it. Then Cartman showed up.

I tried to not look at him a lot or show much emotion in the few looks I gave him. He seemed to be doing the same, and our eyes connected briefly before he looked away. Stan and Kenny didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

When the bus came, Stan and Kenny were talking together, as I had gone silent. They walked onto it without breaking conversation and sat down together. This left me few options because I generally sat with Stan, so I found an empty seat and put my backpack in the spot next to me until Cartman walked by. He sat down with his usual huff and set his backpack under his feet.

"Hey Jew," he greeted.

"Hey fatass," I greeted back.

We went silent after that, and I could feel the tension between us. It wasn't the normal kind. This was a thick, confused sort of tension that made me feel awkward just being so close to him. I glanced over, and I saw that he was gripping the fabric of his pants at the knees tight enough to turn his knuckles white. I figured that meant he felt the tension, too.

I looked up, and I saw that he was glaring at the middle of the aisle. But then he turned his head, and we started at each other for a few short moments. I felt something there, like we were about to do… something. Something big. My heart started beating faster.

"Well, hey guys!"

We both turned to look at Butters, who was leaning over the back of his bus seat and smiling a little confusedly at us. I silently thanked him for breaking that strange moment, but at the same time I hated him for ruining what was about to happen. I felt so confused with myself…

"So, why are you fellas just sittin' there all quiet-like? Usually when you two sit together, you start yelling and stuff…"

I looked at Cartman, and he shrugged. So I took over. "Well, see, Cartman is a dick. Right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Ay! Butters!"

I rolled my eyes. "He's such a dick that I've decided he doesn't even deserve to hear my insults. I'm better off ignoring him."

"Then why were you guys starin' at each other like that?"

"Telepathic argument," Cartman said automatically.

"Oooh." And Butters sat back down in his seat.

"Telepathic argument…?" I looked over at Cartman with my eyebrows raised. "Are you serious?"

"He believed it, didn't he? I got it under control, Jewboy." Cartman crossed his arms and looked off to the side, which I figured ended our conversation. Instead of arguing with him, I fell silent again and looked out the window.

I began to think about his big 'secret' again. He had to like me. He had to. But maybe… maybe he just liked me as a friend, but as a best friend or something. That would mean he'd be nice, right? Or maybe he found out that we were long lost brothers. But even with all the things that happened to me, I _highly_ doubted that. We didn't even look alike. My nose was more defined that his, and my eyes were green, not amber, and he had brown hair where I had red, and he had a different body structure, and his face was cuter than mine, and –

Wait.

I carefully stepped back in my thoughts. Sure, I could admit that a relationship with him might be _alright_ as long as he was nice to me, but… I didn't think he was attractive.

… Right?

"We're at the school, Jew. Get up."

I blinked a few times and looked over at Cartman. He was standing up, not quite in the aisle yet as he waited for me. I picked up my backpack and stood up next to him, and we left the bus together.

We walked up next to Stan and Kenny, who were still talking excitedly about something or other. They barely noticed us. I tried listening to the conversation for a minute, but when I figured out that it was mostly about girls I stopped listening. Girls never interested me much. I mean, Wendy's nice, but… ever since that Rebecca girl had left me, I didn't think of girls very romantically. Stan and Kenny obviously did.

"Fags," Cartman said under his breath. "The fuck are they chattering about?"

"Girls," I replied, shrugging and looking up towards the school.

"Ugh."

I looked at Cartman and raised an eyebrow. "Do you not like girls?"

He shrugged and looked off to the side before looking at me. "I dunno. The one girl who ever even showed any interest, I mean… it was only for a minute… Hey, if girls aren't gonna like me, I won't like them."

The bus always dropped us off a good twenty minutes early, so I sat down on a bench outside the front door. Cartman sat down next to me. Kenny was now leaning against the wall with Stan in front of him and still talking away.

"I guess that's a good way to look at things," I said.

"Yeah, but you don't need to." Cartman frowned and glared off into the crowd of kids not too far away. "You got girls who are interested in you. Like Bebe."

"I don't like Bebe, though." I shook my head and shrugged off my backpack, putting it down by my feet before leaning back on the bench. "She's a whore. I don't like whores. Well, with the exception of Kenny. He's pretty cool." I laughed.

Cartman snorted and leaned forward, crossing his arms on his knees. "Who do you like, then?"

I looked over at him. Huh. What a question. "I… I don't know."

He looked up at me, eyebrows raised. "You don't know who you like?"

I shook my head. "No. I don't think I like anyone. Not now, anyway." I paused for a moment. "Who do you like, Cartman?"

"None of your damn fuckin' business, Jew."

I'd almost forgotten that we were supposed to hate each other, just like I had last night. But why was he suddenly being so vicious? Unless… unless I was right.

"You sound a little defensive," I said, moving closer to him. "Is it a secret?"

"What the fuck did I just say? None of your business, Jew!" He glared at me for a moment, and I saw – to my surprise, delight, and shock – that he was blushing. I was definitely getting closer. It was either me, or someone else he'd never admit to liking…

"C'mon, you can tell me," I said gently, hesitantly putting a hand on his back. He twitched but didn't move away. "You saved me last night… and after what you said… you like me enough to tell me an itty bitty secret, right?"

"Don't talk about last night," he hissed, glaring down at the snow underneath our feet. "I… I wasn't thinking. I just… I mean… I… Just don't. Last night doesn't matter."

I pulled my hand back and crossed my arms. "After all you said? Not hating me for being a Jew, and that if you killed them all you'd keep me… You didn't want to lose me…"

His face was suddenly too close to mine, and he was glaring. "Shut. Up." I backed away a little, my eyes wide, and he sighed.

"Okay, look," he said more carefully, putting one hand on my shoulder. "I… I meant all of it, okay? But… I… I don't wanna talk about it out here. Not around these assholes. Even if they won't hear us." He licked his lips and looked away. "Look, that was all… really embarrassing. I mean, I've hated you for so long…" He looked at me again. "Get it? So let's just try to act normal around them. If… if you want to be all buddy-buddy with me, you can… you can come over to my house."

I gulped. "Okay." It was all I could really say. Cartman pulled his hand off of my shoulder and leaned back, crossing his arms over his thick chest and glaring at the other kids. Then I remembered something.

"So I can't know who you like?"

Cartman sighed heavily and closed his eyes, putting his hand over them and apparently trying to control himself.

"Okay, okay, I'll leave you alone," I said gently.

"Thank you," he said through clenched teeth, his hand still over his eyes.

We sat in silence for a while, and I eventually looked up to see if Stan and Kenny were still talking. They were. I was glad, because had they stopped they would have immediately walked over to join me and Cartman, and at the moment that was the last thing I wanted.

When the bell rang, we stood up, grabbed our backpacks, and walked into the school together. Cartman and I didn't usually spend our mornings so close unless Stan and Kenny were right next to us, and when that happened we were all being close. When alone together we hardly tried to stay that way for long. No one noticed us being so 'buddy-buddy', even if I was almost positive that it was too out of the ordinary to go unnoticed.

I had history for first period, and Cartman had English. We parted in the mornings at the fork in the hallways, with Kenny following me because we had the same class and Stan following Cartman because his first period was near Cartman's. Stan and I would sometimes say goodbye to each other, but that was about it by ways of interaction between the four of us. But – as you can probably tell, given that I explained this at all – this morning was different.

Cartman grabbed my sleeve as I turned to go down my hallway. I turned to look at him, a little surprised and absolutely terrified that someone would notice. But Stan and Kenny were already gone, and no one else cared much.

"Hey, uh… Jew… I, um…"

He looked down at the floor, his hand still gripping my sleeve tightly. He looked back up after a moment and let go of my sleeve in the process.

"I'll… I'll see you later."

I arched an eyebrow. "You stopped me just to tell me something I already knew?"

Cartman's cheeks were suddenly a light pink, and I was feeling more confused than ever. What the hell was he blushing about?

"I, uh…" He licked his lips and looked at the floor again.

"Cartman, please. I have to get to class."

"Never mind," he mumbled dejectedly. "I'll see you in Art." He turned around and walked quickly towards his class.

I watched him for a few moments, fully aware that I needed to hurry but not entirely willing to. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure. But why would Eric Cartman like me?

Art was the class I had right before lunch. Cartman and Stan were in it, but Kenny had a different elective. Stan and Cartman both sat at my table, along with Butters and Clyde. I sat between Cartman and Stan most of the time, unless I _really_disliked Cartman. Today, since we'd been getting along so well, I took my normal seat.

"Hey Jew," he greeted once he noticed me.

"Hey fatass. Hey Stan."

"Huh? Oh, hi Kyle." Stan smiled at me before going back to what he was working on. He was drawing something… I couldn't quite tell what it was, but I wasn't entirely interested, either. My mind was on other things.

"The teacher walked out of class a little before you got here," Cartman said as he pulled some paper out of his backpack. "Something up at the office. So I guess that means we can do what we want."

"I guess," I said carefully as I watched him. He was digging through his backpack again. "What are you looking for?" I asked.

"Pencil."

I tapped his shoulder so he'd look at me, and I handed him my own pencil. He stared at it as if I'd just pulled it out of a vat of toxic waste.

"You're… letting me borrow your pencil?"

I shrugged. "Sure. I have a bunch. Take it."

Cartman took the pencil and turned it over in his fingers, most likely checking for anything I could have done to it. "Thanks, Kahl," he said after a moment. Then he turned to his paper and began to sketch something.

"Dude, did you just give Cartman your pencil?"

I turned to look at Stan, who was staring at me in awe.

"Yeah," I said slowly, raising and eyebrow. "So?"

"Dude, you never let him borrow your stuff. Like, ever." I noticed that Clyde and Butters were now paying attention as well. This was the last thing I wanted.

"C'mon, it's just a pencil," I said, trying to stay calm. I didn't want them thinking there was anything going on. "If he needed, like, a textbook, I'd say no. I can buy another pencil for a quarter."

They continued staring at me, and I frowned and turned to my backpack to pull out a pencil for myself. I wouldn't have given it to him if I'd know it'd be such a big deal… I was just trying to be nice. Return the favor, I guess. He'd been nice to me. I kinda wanted to ask him about it… Nothing changed until the night before, when he'd saved me. Had my possible near death really convinced him to be nice to me? If that was the case, maybe he really did just like me as a friend, and there was no crushing involved… I decided to forget about it until I could ask him about it.

I pulled out a piece of paper and began to draw, sketching the outline of a dolphin. Why a dolphin, you ask? My mind had wandered a bit and I recalled how much Stan had gone through for dolphins. And whales, but whales are ugly, and I just wanted to draw a dolphin. I began to draw a goofy smile on its face when I decided to see what Cartman was drawing.

When I looked at him, I saw that his arm was mostly covering his paper, like it was some big secret. Naturally, I had to know what it was. "Whatcha drawing, Cartman?"

His head jerked up, and he flipped the paper over fast enough to grab the attention of quite a few other kids. His cheeks went a light pink, and he looked around slowly before focusing on me. "Uh… n-nothing."

I blinked. "Cartman, with a reaction like that, do you really expect me to believe you?"

Before he could reply, our teacher walked in and took her place by the board. She looked a little flustered. "I'm sorry about that, class. I had some very important business to attend to. Now that I'm back, we can continue our project from last week…"

Luckily for Cartman, I didn't get another chance to interrogate him about his picture through the rest of the class. By lunch time, I'd forgotten about it.

I stepped off of the bus behind my friends, my eyes on Cartman as he talked with Kenny a few feet in front of me. Kenny had noticed how strange Cartman was acting during the bus ride home, and now he was trying to figure out what was up. I knew that Cartman wouldn't tell him. And he was still an asshole to Kenny, no matter how he acted around me. Kenny hadn't quite figured out that I was the reason why, and it was better that way.

"You just seemed so different," Kenny explained yet again. "Seriously, dude, I'm trying to be nice here. What's up?"

"Nothing, you poor piece of shit," Cartman growled back. "Look, your house is that way. Can you go away already?"

Kenny rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. Have it your way." He waved to us and turned down the road, heading for the railroad tracks and his home. I wondered how many times he'd been run over by that train.

"Kenny's right, though," Stan said. "You were different."

Cartman glared at Stan. "So he finally drops it, and you just pick it back up? There's nothin' different about me! Ask Kahl!"

Stan turned to me, and I shrugged. "I didn't notice anything different."

Stan frowned and looked at Cartman again before sighing in defeat. "Fine, fine. I'll leave you alone. I need to get home anyway. Bye dudes." He ran off in the direction of his house, and I watched him go. Now I was alone with Cartman… for what, the third time in the past forty-eight hours? It was like someone WANTED us to be stuck together like this.

"So… Kahl… why did you cover up for me like that?" Cartman's head was slightly tilted as he looked at me, and he wore an expression that was… well… cute.

"You wanted me to, didn't you? And you know you're admitting to acting different now, right?"

Cartman sighed. "I _know_I was acting different, Kahl. But it's none of their fuckin' business. " He shuffled his feet and looked up at the sky. "So, uh… do you… do you wanna hang out?"

I blinked slowly. _Did he seriously just ask me that?_

"I mean, if you don't want to that's okay, I was just wondering, I mean you don't have – "

"Sure," I said, shaking my head a little to come to my senses. "Sorry, you surprised me there." I looked down the street. "Should we go to Stark's Pond?"

"Uh… yeah. Yeah, let's go there. C'mon, Kahl."

We began to walk down the street together, and for a good few moments we were both perfectly silent. Then something occurred to me. "Hey, Cartman?"

"What?"

"What's with that accent of yours?"

He stopped walking, and I stopped too. He was looking at me in confusion. "… Accent? What accent?"

I sighed. "You know, your… your accent. You pronounce certain words weird. Like my name."

"I don't pronounce your name right?" He looked a little scared. I wondered why.

"Well, I mean, I know you're saying Kyle, but… you pronounce it with a… hm… like, with an 'ah' in the middle. It's supposed to be more of a… more of an 'eye' sound." I shrugged. "I dunno. You do it a lot. I mean, I've heard you pronounce it normally, you just… You know. That accent of yours."

Cartman started walking again, and I followed him. "I guess that's just how I talk," he said slowly.

"I don't mind," I said quickly. "I mean, I don't really notice it. It's just one more thing that makes you… well, you. I was just kinda wondering if it came from anything. Maybe it's your fat clogging your vocal cords?"

"Ay!" Cartman punched me in the arm, and I laughed. "I am _not_fat, Kahl, I'm big-boned!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," I said, still laughing. His punch didn't really have any power behind it, but I hadn't really expected it to. Besides that one time with the midget, I'd never seen Cartman actually have a successful fight…

"Say it, Kahl," he growled. "What am I?"

"Big-boned?" I ventured.

"That's a good Kahl." He patted the top of my hat, and I swatted his hand away.

We were now at Stark's Pond, and he walked over to the bench and set his backpack down on it. I did the same thing, and then we walked to the shore of the pond. We stood there for a long time, just staring out at the water and not saying anything. It felt almost romantic in a way, which was a bit disgusting, and yet… it wasn't really all that bad.

"It won't stay this way forever," Cartman said suddenly. I looked up at him. "We can't be all friendly with each other. Not with how we're supposed to be… We're rivals. We always will be. No one can know about any of this." He looked at me and sighed. "Things are gonna go back to normal, and we won't ever talk about this again."

"I figured as much," I said as I looked back at the water. "But… before we do that… Can you at least tell me why you did it?" I looked up at him again. "Why did you save me?"

"I already told you," he said a little irritably. "They were gonna hurt you. Or kill you. I had to, Kahl. I couldn't… I can't…" He trailed off and glared at the snow to his right.

"Go on," I said, tilting my head and waiting for him to finish.

"I can't lose you," he said in a quiet voice. I remembered him saying the same thing when I asked him if he was okay. He looked at me again, and his expression was almost pained. "Kahl, I… I didn't care when you needed a kidney. I didn't. I… I didn't get it back then."

He began to walk away, back towards the bench. He motioned for me to follow, and I did. We sat down together, and he took a deep breath before continuing.

"Do you remember when your dad got a Hybrid?"

I thought for a moment. "Oh, yeah. I do."

"Well… when you left, after a while I realized that I really did need you. You know, for… for making fun of you and stuff. You're, like, the perfect complement to me… You know?" He clasped his hands together in his lap and sighed. "For every insult I throw at you, you insult me right back. No matter how mad I make you, you always come back. No one else can do it. No one else is Jewish, and no one else is as tough as you… They'd walk away after a week of putting up with me. When I realized all that, I knew I needed you back."

I nodded. "I think I know what you mean… lucky for you I got on that bus, huh? I don't even remember getting on it… I'm never doing acid again." I shuddered.

"… Yeah." He looked a little nervous. "But realizing that was the first step, you know? Then… then there was the thing with Imaginationland."

I arched an eyebrow. What had happened besides him trying to get me to suck his balls?

"When you died."

Oh, right. That.

"I know I made it sound like I was just happy you were alive so you could suck my balls, but…" Cartman gulped and turned his face away. "You… you were so pale, Kahl. And cold. You were so fucking cold."

I moved a little closer to him. I never knew it had affected him that way…

"It felt like you were gone for hours. I was almost sure you'd never… that you'd never wake up." His voice cracked in the end, and I realized he was crying. Needless to say I was shocked. I gently put an arm around his shoulders, and he didn't try to move it. He took a few moments to get himself under control before continuing.

"I was trying so hard, Kahl. I had to make you come back. I had to. If I never saw you again… I couldn't let that happen. But I was looking in your eyes, and… and you weren't looking back… You didn't even know I was there. You were gone. You were dead, Kahl. You were _dead._" He leaned against me, and I gave him a tight one-armed hug. He sniffled and wiped his face on his sleeve.

"Ever since then, I told myself that I wasn't going to lose you. I mean, I still didn't care as much as I do now, but… I… I wouldn't ever let you die. Never. I couldn't… I can't live without you. I need you."

I bit my lip and looked away. He'd never opened up to me like this before… And what a confession, too.

"Do you mean that?" I asked softly, looking at him again. He was staring down at his lap.

"Yeah… I do, Kahl. You're my friend." He looked up now, and our eyes connected. "You might be a sneaky Jew, and you might always ruin my plans, but…" He sighed and shook his head. "I can't believe I told you all of that."

"I'm kinda glad I know," I said. "I mean, I thought you hated me."

"That's the thing," Cartman said with a frown. "That's what I wanted you to think. You were never supposed to know how I really feel. But when they surrounded you… with those guns… I just couldn't keep it up. You know?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah… I think I get it. So it's just a friendship thing, then?"

His eyes widened as he turned to look at me. "Well, uh, did you think it was anything else? 'Cause, uh, it isn't. Just… just friendly. Yeah."

I arched an eyebrow. "Is that so, Cartman? It's nothing else?"

"Well… actually…"

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Cartman and I both looked over the back of the bench, and to my horror, the guys from the night before were back. And they still had their guns.

"You're the little asshole who beat us up," the leader said, pointing his gun at Cartman. There was a large bruise on the side of his face from where Cartman had punched him. "We don't take kindly to little assholes layin' their hands on us."

Cartman stood up slowly, and the leader's gun followed him. "Look," he said slowly, holding up his hands. "Do whatever you want to me… just don't touch him."

"How cute," the leader said with a laugh. "Protecting your little boyfriend, huh? That's pretty brave of you, kid. Now, we just wanna pay you back for the pretty bruises you gave us…"

I stood up and pushed Cartman out of the way. The leader's gun was on me now, and Cartman grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me back. I struggled out of his grip and approached the leader. "Look, you wanted me last night, right? Here." I reached into my jacket and pulled out my bag of gold, breaking the chain it was attached to and handing it to the leader. "Take this and go."

He took the bag and looked inside, and his eyes widened. "Is… is this gold?"

"Yes," I said angrily. "You can have someone check it for you. If it's fake, feel free to hunt me down. But it's not, so just take it and _go._"

"Alright," the leader said carefully. "We'll go. But if it's fake… we'll be back. Mark my words." He waved his hand, and his lackeys followed him as he walked away from the pond. As soon as they were out of sight, Cartman grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me up against his chest.

"You stupid fucking Jew!" he snapped. "He could have fucking killed you!"

"He could have killed _you,_Cartman. Besides, I made him go away, right? We're safe now."

I could feel his body shaking as he held me. That encounter had really scared him… I almost felt bad for doing what I did. But I had to. It was all I _could_ do at that moment that would save both of us. I leaned into him, and I actually enjoyed how warm he felt.

"C'mon, Jew," he said shakily. "Let's get you home." He let go of me and began to walk away. I followed him obediently.

"I wonder where they came from," I said as we walked. "Maybe they're from North Park. Or Denver. South Park is too small and quiet to have people like them walking around…"

"Doesn't matter where they came from, as long as they never go near you again," Cartman growled. "If they do, I'll break their fucking necks, I'm so seriously."

"How sweet of you," I said with a small laugh. "Oh, hey… what were you gonna say when they showed up?"

Cartman sighed heavily and stopped walking. "I _knew_ you'd ask that… I just _knew_ it… Look, it's best to just forget about it. I'm just… I'm shaken up right now. Let's talk about it later."

I walked in front of him and looked up into his eyes. He frowned at me. "C'mon, Cartman… can't you tell me? I can already guess what it was, but…"

"Oh? You think you know what I was about to say?"

I shrugged and looked down. "I dunno. I can guess."

I gasped when I felt Cartman's impossibly warm hand on my cheek. I looked up at him, and the nervousness from before was back in his eyes. "Kahl… I've told you a lot of things today that I never wanted anyone to know, least of all you. Remember how I said there was one thing I'd take with me to the grave? The little secret that really made you matter?"

"Yeah…" I gulped. "You said you would take it to the grave unless you found a reason not to, though."

He raised his eyebrows. "Do you have a reason for me, then?"

My cheeks felt warm. I hoped he didn't notice. "Well, if I'm right about what it is, I could give you a reason…"

I looked up again, and he was looking at me very carefully. "Kahl… do you… How much do you like me?"

I shrugged. "I dunno… I mean, a lot, if you stay this way… All nice and protective and…"

"And what?"

"And… and loving."

His lips curved into a small smile. "You think I'm loving?"

"I… I dunno… just kinda… kinda seems that way…"

I gulped and looked into his eyes. He looked happy. And that evil look he almost always had… it was gone. It hadn't occurred to me before that he was fucking with me – he seemed too serious – but without that look in his eyes, I knew he was being entirely truthful with me. I just knew it.

"You're a smart little Jew, aren't you?" he said quietly.

"H-huh?"

He chuckled and put his other hand on the other side of my face. "I was kinda scared that you'd notice, but… I couldn't be sure if you would."

"Wait… does that mean you…?"

Cartman sighed, and his breath ghosted across my face. It smelled sweet. "Yeah. It does, Kahl."

Eric Cartman leaned forward, and our lips met in a kiss too perfect to describe.

**AN: Didja like it? I sure hope so! This sonofabitch took forever to write. But I'm just lazy. XP Review please! :3**

**By the way - Cartman was drawing a picture of himself and Kyle snuggling. X3**

**Will there be a sequel? Who knows! Tell me if you'd like one. And in the event that I don't want to write it, I can just, like, get Soul to do it for me. XD Maybe not but it'd be worth begging for it.**

**OverSweetNightmare, away! *flies off***


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